Tsuki No Hikari
by kawaiimisao
Summary: Soujiro Misao fic. Kyoto arc. Soujiro kidnaps Misao to ensure that Aoshi will remain faithful to his alliance with Shishio.
1. A Midnight Visitor

Disclaimer:  I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or any of the characters in it.  I just wish I did.  

Author's note:  New fic everyone!  This takes place during the Kyoto arc.  Misao has already met Kaoru and Yahiko, but Aoshi has not yet fought Okina in this fic.  That's where it starts.  Anyways, for those who don't know, Hengo is the goddess who lives in the moon.  I use a reference to that myth in the story.  Well, Lerone I hope this fic puts a smile on your face, and much thanks must go out to Kyouhi for all of her wonderful suggestions, many of which I used in this fic.  Please read and review, flames and suggestions are very welcome!  Enjoy!

            Soujiro crouched silently in the darkness of the night on the roof of the Aoiya restaurant, overlooking the first floor bedroom of his target below.  He was not used to ninja work such as this, but Shishio-san had chosen him to complete this job because he had never failed him in the past.  However, sneaking into the headquarters of the Oniwabanshu and kidnapping his target was a more dangerous mission than most that he had previously completed.  

Soujiro stood still as a statue while he stared down at the courtyard beneath him.  Not a soul in sight he noted.  Soujiro leapt down and ran across the courtyard towards the bedroom of his target in front of him, the soft grass beneath his sandaled feet silencing the sound of his footsteps.  Once he reached the opposite wall, he pressed his back against it, taking refuge in the darkness next to his target's window.  Soujiro silently sighed in relief and looked up at the moon, smiling at it.  It was his only companion on this warm summer night, and it was proving to be a quite bothersome one since the moon had decided to be particularly bright tonight.  Soujiro quietly turned his back from the moon and peered into the window which had been left open on this summer night.  A pair of sheer, white curtains danced quietly in the warm summer breeze, reflecting the moonlight and concealing Soujiro's view.  Soujiro took his hand off of the hilt of his sheathed nihontou and grasped the long white curtains, moving them away to the side so he could see in the room.  As he moved the visual obstruction aside, the form of his target sleeping on the floor of her room on her tatami mat became evident to Soujiro.  The bright moonlight shot past him as he cleared the curtain, illuminating the figure on the floor.  She was beautiful, her long, black hair, unbraided, flowed down her back and over her shoulders as she slept quietly on her side facing him.  Her skin was as pale as the white light of the moon which danced in the room, and her lips were parted slightly as she made quiet and slight breathing sounds as she slept peacefully.  She was dressed only in a dark blue silk robe with a graceful crane outlined in gold colored fabric on the back of her robe.  She had kicked her blankets off in her sleep in response to the warm summer heat, and they lay at her ankles, revealing her shapely firm legs.  Soujiro was at a loss for words.  He had never seen any creature so beautiful, not even Yumi-san on her best days was half as lovely.  It was like he had stumbled upon Hengo, the moon goddess, in her sleep, and he was afraid if he awaked her she would suddenly disappear.  She seemed quite different from the girl he had met before in the village when he had fought Himura-san.  She had been so lively and animated as she cheered for her friend, but this was another side of her.  She was so peaceful and delicate, so much more like a woman.  

Soujiro crept through the window and into the room as he let go of the curtain.  He stood silently over his target as he pondered how to wake her without startling her by his presence and causing her to scream. Well what ever he did he needed to hurry up before someone noticed that he was there.  Quietly, Soujiro knelt down to the woman's side and watched her.  Her chest moved up and down steadily with each even breath, and her eyes remained closed, concealing their blue depths.  Soujiro reached over her slowly, making sure his sleeve did not brush against her cheek as he prepared to cover her mouth so she would not scream when he waked her.  But before he could do so, he was interrupted by the sound of a wind chime singing in the night air.  As she began to stir, Soujiro quickly slunk into a dark corner of the room, out of her obvious sight.  

Misao sat up and rubbed her eyes sleepily as the warm breeze flowing into her room from the open window gently caressed her face.  She was tired, having met and run into Kamiya Kaoru and Myoujin Yahiko while chasing after Himura-san in the streets of Kyoto that day.  After hearing Kaoru-san's plight she had brought her to Himura-san.  However, Kaoru-san had returned the favor by telling her about the deaths of her friends.  It had broken her heart when she heard the words.  _And Aoshi-sama…  Misao stood up and shook the thought of from her mind.  She couldn't think about that now, she had other responsibilities now.  _

Misao stood up and tightened the sash around her waist that held her robe closed as she walked towards the window.  It was a warm night, even for the summer.  The only thing that made it bearable was the breeze that drifted through her window.  Misao rested her hand against the outside edge of the open window and looked up at the stars and the moon in the sky.  The light of the full moon danced in her eyes as she gazed at it dreamily.  She wondered if he was looking at it too, thinking about her.  Suddenly, however, the thought was snuffed from her mind by a hand that reached around from behind her and covered her mouth, while an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back into a body behind her.  A faint gasp escaped her lips, but was muffled by the hand over her mouth.  Her first reaction was to reach for her kunai, but then she realized they were in her Oniwabanshu uniform, and she was not wearing it.  So instead she struggled, trying to swing at her unknown captor with her free arm, but he quickly grasped it with the hand that was wrapped around her waist and pinned it to her side, holding her firmly in place.  Not giving up, Misao bit the hand that was covering her mouth and the hand recoiled quickly.  But before a scream or one of her angry threats of death could escape her lips, she felt a firm tap on the back of her neck, causing her to lose consciousness.  As her body slumped forward and just before she completely lost consciousness, she heard the frighteningly cheerful voice of her captor say, "Oyasumi nasai Misao-chan."    


	2. A Midday Rain

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or any of the characters in it. I know, I'm as shocked as you are.

Misao opened her eyes to see the rain heavy grey sky between the green needles of a pine tree. She could feel her long, black hair sticking to the sides of her face and her neck like a cold, wet blanket. Her damp robe was clung to her body, revealing the curves she had to offer. Steady drops of rain pattered down onto the ground, the noise of the falling rain beating against the forest floor having been what had awakened her from her slumber. A rain drop landed on the tip of her small nose and slid down her cheek, like a fallen tear. A bit confused by her surroundings, Misao's long lashes fluttered as she blinked a few times in disbelief. Then a flood of memories came back to her, the hand that had covered her lips and stifled her scream in her bedroom in the darkness of the night and the haunting voice of the young man to whom the hand belonged. It still echoed in her mind. Oyasumi nasai Misao-chan.

Startled, Misao quickly attempted to sit up, but when she tried to put her hands on the ground to support her weight as she sat up, she noticed that her cold, numb hands were bound tightly with a rope in front of her. Her body flopped back to the ground, the motion then causing her form to slip in the mud down the slope of the slight hill she had been lying on. Her body slid a few feet and rolled over once in the mud before she landed at the bottom on her stomach. Misao clenched her eyes shut tightly and cursed silently under her breath at her misfortune. She was wet, and muddy. She wanted nothing more to go home. Misao then opened her eyes and looked up the hill to see where she had fallen from. Just beyond that sat a young man, leaning up against the trunk of the pine tree. He was dressed in a light and royal blue gi and hakama with a wet, grey western shirt that clung to his body. He had mousey brown hair that was slightly damp on top from the rain drops the branches of the tree failed to block. His bangs hung over his face covering his eyes as he slept sitting up, a nihontou clenched in his fingers. He had the adorable face of a sleeping child, so peaceful and innocent, and in seeing that expression, Misao recognized who her captor was immediately. He was the young man from the village outside Kyoto, who had fought Himura and even destroyed his sword just days before, the tenken whose power and speed that had matched, if not exceeded the red headed rurouni's, and the right hand man of the power hungry Shishio Makoto. Seta Soujiro.

Misao's wide eyes tightly closed as she let out a girlish sneeze as the rain drops started to grow in pace and number. Soujiro stirred, opening his eyes sleepily, he blinked a few times before realizing Misao wasn't where he had left her. The tenken stood up, brushing off his clothes as he did so, his behavior very nonchalant and casual. It wasn't like she could have gone far anyways. Soujiro took a few steps down the muddy slope before noticing Misao looking up at him, still tied like he had left her, lying on her stomach, a muddy smudge on her right cheek. She was soaking wet, her long black hair hung limply against the side of her face, her drenched silk robe clinging to her body, revealing her gentle curves. Her pale ivory skin stood in stark contrast to her lips, made red by the cold. Soujiro wore his wide smile as he descended the slope, stopping and kneeling down next to her when he reached her side, getting his sandals muddy. "Gomen ne. The rain must have caught up to us. Shishio-san will be upset if I bring you to him sick," his innocent tone spoke, trying to sooth her. Misao, however, wasn't buying it. "Kisama! Let me go and I'll go easy on you!" she yelled as she struggled to sit up. Soujiro assisted her to a seating position and then proceeded to clean her off with the added assistance of the rain. His own hair was drenched and his clothes clung to his body limply.

Misao, however, continued to prattle on. "Mou! Don't you know who you are kidnapping anyways? I'm Oniwabanshu! When Aoshi-sama comes back and finds out I'm not there, it'll be all over for you. You better start begging me for forgiveness now before he gets here. Or I'm…" Soujiro suddenly cut Misao off with a kiss, his lips pressing against hers, quieting her anger. Misao remained silent in her surprise as a fierce red blush crept across her cheeks. The forest was still, except for the sound of the rain falling on the ground around them. Soujiro wasn't sure why he kissed her, but he lingered there, his lips pressed against hers. He had always associated the rain with sadness, but this rain was different. It was warm like Misao's innocent lips… and he was enjoying this.

Soujiro then stood up, breaking off the kiss. His bangs covered his eyes, shrouding his serious expression from here. Misao, still quite shocked and breathless remained quiet for a moment as she looked up at him. A smile crept across Soujiro's face as the happy mask he wore once more returned. "I always wondered what a kiss would be like," he said, with a satisfied smile on his face. Soujiro then bent down and tucked one hand behind Misao's back and the other beneath her knees as he hoisted her up and held her in his arms. His kiss had produced the desired effect on her; Misao's usual violent and angry attitude was suppressed and quiet. She seemed thoughtful, almost scared. He wondered if he had frightened her. I didn't really mean to scare her that much demo… ah, it doesn't matter anyways. I just need to bring her to Shishio-san in one piece. And with that Soujiro walked off in search of shelter, carrying Misao in his arms.


	3. Escape

            The rain had relented for a while, yet the dark gray clouds continued to loom overhead threatening to burst anew releasing more tears from heaven.  Or at least that was how Soujiro saw them as he stood in the mud, looking up at the midday gloom.  His clothes were still damp hanging limply from his body and the cold cut right through them.  Yet, his face betrayed nothing about how he felt, actually from the eternal smile that hung on his lips, he appeared to be enjoying the poor weather.  Then again though, he would have looked that way if the sun had been shinning or a hurricane was about to sweep them him up in its path, or both.  It didn't really matter to him either way.  He never felt anything, at least, not since that one night, when the rains had cried, tears from heaven, tears of the weak as he saw them, crying for his innocence lost, since he had been baptized in the blood of his family that night.  He was no longer weak from that day forward and had never cried from that night onward.  _The heavens cried that night.  Not me._

            Soujiro's face looked down, away from the gray sky.  He didn't want to think about that anymore.  _Heaven is for the weak.  I'm not weak.  Instead his eyes focused on the girl in his arms.  Tired, cold, hungry, and exhausted she had fallen asleep there, strangely comfortable.  Her long black hair clung loosely to her shoulders and her back; her silk robe, ruined from the rain clung to her pale, cold skin. She appeared to be angelic and innocent, even in her reduced state as she rested.  __But it's that innocence that makes her weak, that allowed me to capture her so easily.  She's only food for the strong, so it doesn't matter what Shishio-san does to her… or if he kills her.  Not that it mattered to him either way.  She should know better than to be weak, she was a ninja.  But perhaps the Oniwabanshu, which had declined like an aged warrior since the Bakumatsu, had poisoned her with their weakness as well.  __It doesn't matter, quit thinking about it.  Soujiro wiped the thoughts from his mind and continued on._

            Misao's hand pulled the edge of the blanket closer to her body to keep her warm while she remained in a state of light sleep at that point where one still dreams, but is conscious of their thoughts as well.  She was arguing with Okon and Omasu about wearing a kimono instead of her usual Oniwabanshu uniform.  Didn't they understand that she was a ninja, not a lady, and how proud she was to wear that uniform?  Demo… what if Aoshi-sama didn't like ninjas and preferred ladies?  Would she wear one then?  Misao brushed subconsciously at her hand while she remained in her dream, something was tickling it.  Then she felt it, it wasn't the familiar touch of a blanket or her clothes.  It was crawling.  Misao sat up suddenly, yanking herself out of the agonizing dream and flinging whatever had been crawling on her hand seconds before to the other side of the room.  She rubbed her hand against her robe trying to wipe away the memory of the sensation on her hand.  She hated insects.

            Then it ended, the moment before memories start flooding back about what worried or pleased one the day before.  _That man, where is he?  Where am I?  Misao looked around at her surroundings.  It seemed she was inside an abandoned, dilapidated cottage. __That would explain the bugs at least; the forest is probably beginning to take the land back.  Then Misao noticed the small cooking fire pit in front of her.  The remains of a log still crackled in the pit, still on fire but about to go out.  That would explain why her robe was dry, though it was in a sorry state, the silk had been ruined by the wet and tattered.  She probably would have caught a cold wearing that if it had not been for the fire.  Misao rubbed her wrists, remembering the feel of the ropes that had bound them before.  __Perhaps he let me go.  Maybe he didn't need me after all.  Then Misao noticed the color of the blanket she had been curling up in, light blue with a dark blue fringe.  It wasn't a blanket at all, but the gi of her kidnapper.  Not far from her, sitting up and leaning against the wall was her captor.  His head hung tilted downwards, indicating sleep and his gi was indeed missing with only a grey western style shirt to cover his chest.  His bangs covered his closed eyes as he slept noiselessly, not stirring despite all of the morning sounds about him.  He must have stayed up late taking care of her, and she must have slept long for it was already the next day and her captor was out.  He looked almost innocent even sleeping there… but he had forced a kiss upon her earlier, a first kiss that she had been saving for Aoshi that he had stolen from her.  But perhaps he wasn't so bad, he had obviously cared for her during the night.    _

Innocent or not, kiss or no kiss though, Misao still had to make it back to the Aoiya and warn her companions.  This was her chance for escape.

Misao shakily stood up, her eyes never moving from his face the whole time.  He didn't stir.  Slowly and quietly she crept towards the door, which was open, hanging by a single hinge, the others having rusted away long ago.  Misao stopped for a moment at the door and looked back at him one more time.  She hadn't wakened him; he was still sleeping quietly, sitting up against the wall._  I wonder if I'll ever see him again…  Misao pushed the thoughts from her head.  __What's wrong with me?  He kidnapped me, why should I care.  Her eyes lingered for one more moment, watching Seta's sleeping form, and then she turned, her form disappearing from the room into the morning light._


End file.
